


Always

by orphan_account



Category: Slipknot
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Fingerfucking, Handcuffs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, POV First Person, Post-Coital Cuddling, Spreader Bars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1960677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’ll take care of me. He always does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> Joey/Mick, bondage, dom/sub, blindfolds, handcuffs. Told from Joey's POV. By the way, if anyone's interested, I'm taking requests for one-shot fics. You don't have to pay me anything, just leave a request if you're interested. If you do leave a request, try and make it as specific as possible. Other than that, enjoy.

I lie spread-eagled on the bed, wrists bound to the metal bars of the headboard, legs forced open by a spreader bar, blindfold covering my eyes, and wait. I’m not nervous, or anxious—I don’t need to be. He’ll be here soon. He’ll take care of me. He always does.

I don’t know how long I’ve been waiting by the time the door clicks open and shut. All I know is that he’s here now, and that’s all that matters.

I lick my lips in anticipation. For a few seconds, there’s nothing but silence, then the soft sound of rustling fabric as he pulls his t-shirt off, followed by the clinking of a belt buckle being undone. I try to stop myself from shivering with excitement as I hear the floorboards creak beneath his feet, and almost whimper with ecstasy as he climbs onto the bed, kneeling over me, straddling my tiny body. A huge pair of hands run down my chest, and in spite of the thick black blindfold blocking my vision, I can see, in my mind’s eye, the wolfish, predatorial smile he must be wearing right now.

“You’ve been very good today,” he says, his deep voice sending shivers up my spine. “I think you deserve a reward. But first…” He shuffles further up the bed, and a few seconds later, I feel the head of his cock pressing against my lips. I open my mouth obediently, and he thrusts in. I suck eagerly, lapping at the tip, occasionally letting my teeth gently graze the shaft. He sighs and pets my hair. “Good boy,” he mumbles, and my heart swells with pride. He carries on like that for a few minutes, thrusting in and out carefully, holding my head still. Then he’s gone, and I have to bite my lip to stop a whine of frustration escaping. He’s not done yet, I tell myself. Just be patient.

And he isn’t. The spreader bar is suddenly removed, and my legs are hoisted up. I only just manage to stop myself from crying out when a thick finger, coated in cold lube, breaches my body. Another one follows, thrusting in and out, stretching me, scissoring me. I’m writhing on the bed at this point, my cock almost fully hard, my teeth digging into my lower lip to the point of pain in an effort to stop myself from moaning aloud. He pulls his fingers out and, after what feels like an age, he pushes in slowly.

“Ready?” he asks, and I nod. He starts thrusting, slow at first, gradually speeding up, until the headboard starts banging against the wall and my whole body is being rocked and shaken by how hard he’s fucking me. It’s exquisite torture, his thick cock filling me, my own almost painfully hard. I feel his long hair brush my face as he leans down.

“Do you want to come, Joey?” he breathes, his voice husky and low. I nod desperately. “Say it, then.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir, what?”

“Please can I come, sir?”

“Good boy,” he growls. He wraps his hand around my achingly hard cock and strokes roughly, and within seconds I’m coming, my mouth open wide in a silent scream of pure, total bliss; he follows me seconds later, groaning my name, and hearing him saying my name like that is almost enough to make me come for a second time. I collapse back onto the mattress, panting heavily. I feel weak and exhausted, like I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.

All of a sudden, the blindfold is removed. I blink, trying to adjust to the sudden light. I feel a hand on my cheek and look up at him. He smiles down at me, and I manage to smile back.

“You were so good,” he says quietly, and reaches down to gently kiss my bruised lips. He reaches up to free my wrists from the handcuffs, carefully rubbing the slightly sore skin. “Are you OK?”

“’m fine,” I mumble. He presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I just need to go grab something. I’ll be right back.”

I nod sleepily. He climbs up off the bed and walks across to the bathroom door. I hear the sound of running water, and a few seconds later, he returns with a faded green washcloth. Sliding into bed next to me, he carefully runs the damp cloth over my face and chest, cleaning away the sweat. When he’s finished, he leaves the washcloth on the nightstand then turns back to me, pulling me close. I curl up in his arms, feeling safe and happy.

I knew he’d take care of me.

He always does.


End file.
